


Ten Reasons Iruka Thinks He Might Hate Kakashi

by Erisabesu (ErisabesuFic)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Comedy, Frustration, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23135521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisabesuFic/pseuds/Erisabesu
Summary: “ ‘Are you implying this is all MY fault?!’ Iruka hisses, indignant.”  [2009.06.10]
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Comments: 25
Kudos: 122





	Ten Reasons Iruka Thinks He Might Hate Kakashi

**“Ten Reasons Why Iruka Thinks He Might Hate Kakashi”**

♦

“When will he quit beating around the bush!” Iruka demands on the way to the Academy cafeteria for a quick lunch. “I mean, how long must this coy flirtation go on before he asks me for a date? I am running out of patience here!”

Shikamaru is quiet a moment, hands in his pockets, thinking of the awkward time he had with Temari before they managed to take the first steps.

“It’s like he’s obsessed with the chase!” Iruka sighs in frustration. “I mean, isn’t it a bit old to stake out the bushes in front of the Hokage tower so he can jump out and yell BOO and try to catch me with a scared face? Or linger in the mission room and wink at me over his porno book when nobody else is looking? Or stuff a souvenir g-string into my mailbox slot every time he returns from an away-mission? Why in heck doesn’t he just do the simple thing and ask me to dinner already?!”

“I guess some people are slower than others.” Shikamaru coughs self-consciously. “How long would you say this has been going on?”

Iruka starts counting on his fingers, and when he has to use both hands Shikamaru tugs Iruka’s elbow and stops them in the hallway.

“Jeez, Iruka, if it’s been more than five months, maybe you’d better suck it up and ask him out instead, or else just forget about it.”

Iruka laughs. “Months? Try _years_.”

Shikamaru blinks, frozen in mid-step.

“It’s no wonder I’m losing my mind after _years_ of this nonsense!” Iruka throws up his hands, continuing down the hall without him. “I mean, I know Jounin have been through elite training and have to endure all sorts of horrible conditions to survive their missions, but dammit—I wish he would quit sending vague signals and just _do_ something about it. Am I crazy or something?”

Iruka turns to gesture and halts, finally realizing he’d charged on by himself. “Hey, what are you lagging behind for?” Iruka calls, beckoning. “We only have twenty more minutes to eat before the afternoon shift!”

“Wait a second, wait a second,” Shikamaru holds up his hand. “Iruka—you flirted back, didn’t you? After the… er… gifts…? I mean, he knows you want to go out with him, right?”

Iruka closes his mouth. He glances at the ceiling. His brows meet in the center of his forehead and he rubs his neck, then finally crosses his arms and begins to turn red.

“Oh my God,” Shikamaru deadpans.

“Well what exactly was I supposed to do?!” Iruka shouts, voice echoing in the hallway and startling the people around them.

Shikamaru motions for him to calm down and catches up quickly in an attempt to head off Iruka’s infamous temper.

“Are you implying this is all _MY_ fault?!” Iruka hisses, indignant.

Shikamaru is quick to deny anything of the sort. “I only meant to point out a possible reason why he hasn’t asked you out officially yet.”

“He _deserved_ to be ignored!” Iruka insists, still visibly red. “All those times yelling BOO—you’d have done the same thing! You expect me to go thank him for all that skimpy foreign underwear or something?! Or wink back while he’s flashing porn in my workplace?! HELL NO!”

“Okay, okay,” Shikamaru tries to interject, but Iruka is no longer listening.

“That idiot!” Iruka grinds his teeth, voice on the rise. “Why not just bump into me somewhere and start a conversation, huh? That would be the smart thing but _oh no_ —he has to turn everything into some big, juvenile production! He couldn’t possibly invite me out for Ramen, he’s got to jump out of the bushes and stuff my mailbox with lingerie! That pervert! Talk about someone who needs a lesson—you just watch me! I will show that guy how it’s done if it’s the last thing I do!”

Shikamaru shakes his head and follows Iruka into the noisy cafeteria, feeling significantly more confident in his so-called steady relationship with a dangerous woman from Sunagakure.

♦

“How could he be so unnecessarily difficult?!” Iruka grumbles, helping his colleague to erase her blackboard after school while she has a sprained wrist. “Putting me through all those mind games last night—I can’t stand it!”

Suzume inclines her head, doing her best to straighten the desks in the room with her good hand. “What mind games? I thought you had decided to grab the bull by the horns and ask him out?”

“Exactly!” Iruka turns around, hands on his hips. “Here I am doing _him_ a favor and taking the plunge, but if I had known it would turn into a farcical interrogation I would have left him the hell alone!”

“Interrogation?” Suzume frowns.

“You wouldn’t believe it!” Iruka begins pacing back and forth at the front of her room. “I started with a simple ‘Hello, how are you?’ and he goes ‘Why do you ask?’ and I say ‘I’m curious’ and he says ‘Are you curious often?’ and I thought that was odd, so I said ‘Does it matter?’ and he says ‘If you like curious people it matters a great deal’ so I said ‘Do you like curious people?’ and he says ‘Why do you ask?’ and then we’re right back at the beginning so I blink at him and he has the nerve to smirk at me! The _nerve_!”

Suzume frowns, watching Iruka turn more and more red, which is worrisome. “Um…”

“So I said to him ‘Listen, you—I’m not going to ask this again’ and he butts in and says ‘Are you sure?’ and I’m kinda getting angry at this point so I say ‘I’m sure as a sure-cicle!’ and okay, that wasn’t even a word, but at the time I didn’t care because then he says ‘I think you’re lying’ and I say ‘How would you know?’ and he says ‘Something tells me you’re not really sure’ and I said ‘I don’t care what you think!’ and he says ‘Then what were you going to ask?’ and I said ‘Are you free on Friday?’ and he said ‘What?’ and I said ‘Are you free on Friday?’ and he comes real close and peers at me and says ‘When?’ and _then_ I suddenly feel all nervous but I swallowed and said ‘Are you free on Friday to, you know, have dinner or something? With me? Like a date?’ and do you know what he says?! ‘See, you weren’t sure at all, were you.’ That jackass!!!”

Iruka humphs with indignation and finishes erasing the last of the blackboard, which gives Suzume a moment to digest this tirade.

“…So did you manage to set up a date, in the end?”

“I did, but now I’m so pissed off I’m ready to call the whole thing off!”

Iruka takes the erasers to the window and begins beating them together outside, and Suzume wisely lets him do it until he’s managed to calm down, although she does realize that after this Friday she’ll need to find a different after school helper.

From here on, Iruka will be too busy with his new boyfriend.

Sure as a sure-cicle.

♦

“He has absolutely no accountability! None! Not even an infinitesimal smidgen!” Iruka pounds his fist on the counter, startling the bartender and the customers on his left.

Kotetsu gestures that everything is okay, apologizes to the other patrons and confiscates Iruka’s shuriken pouch for the time being. “What happened, exactly?”

“Three hours!” Iruka starts pulling his hair out. “Three hours I waited at the restaurant we agreed on and he never fucking showed! Unbelievable!”

“You’re right,” Kotetsu pats his friend on the shoulder and orders another round of Yuengling. He doesn’t trust Iruka with alcohol to begin with, certainly not the hard stuff, but this seems to be a special occasion and he feels it’s better not to argue and just keep the beers coming.

“Who does he think he _is_?!” Iruka shouts, trembling in his chair from anger.

“A giant asshole.”

“That’s right!” Iruka tips back his first beer and drains it.

Kotetsu shoots a glance back at Izumo, smoking in their original booth, dinner plate in front of him half eaten, and wonders how on earth Izumo guilted him into taking on this consolation duty—just because he forgot to take out the trash last night? This sucks! Babysitting irate schoolteachers is not at all his element of expertise.

“I actually went out and bought a new shirt for our date tonight, trying to look good for that jerk.” Iruka kicks the bar. “Man, was that stupid.”

Kotetsu shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a good looking shirt; you can wear it again.”

“Isn’t it?” Iruka brightens, taking a swig of his second beer and swiveling on the barstool to face him. “It wasn’t that expensive, but it feels as good as it looks.”

Iruka holds his arm out and Kotetsu obediently slides his hand down Iruka’s sleeve, feeling a well defined bicep under the lush, clinging fabric. All his senses snap to attention and focus on the man beside him, finally registering the sex appeal he missed at first amid the fury and bluster of Iruka’s arrival.

Kotetsu swallows. “Yeah. Feels real good.”

“And I wore these jeans to go with it. Pretty good combo, right?” Iruka hops off the stool and turns a slow circle.

“Oh…um…” Kotetsu mumbles, eyes following the accented lines of Iruka’s lean muscles and narrow waist, and noticing how the jeans fit all the right places and make his mouth water in anticipation. Somebody passed _this_ up?

Kotetsu automatically rests his hand on Iruka’s hip, casual, and not-so-casual at the same time. “ _Hot_ combination. Definitely hot.”

“And I had my hair down for a change. Like this,” Iruka says, tugging the elastic band free and shaking his hair out, standing so close now Kotetsu feels a little dizzy.

“Damn…” Kotetsu can’t stop looking Iruka up and down, and he can feel the blood in his brain rushing south, as well as a curious sensation of murderous intent from somewhere at the back of the bar. He dismisses it easily enough, focused on his colleague instead—he’d never expected Iruka could be so tempting.

Kotetsu licks his lips. “Only a fool would stand you up. Seriously, I mean that.”

Iruka slumps and crosses his arms, head lowered and full lips turned down in a sexy pout. “Then why didn’t he come for our daaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”

A freak tornado of grass and leaves blasts through the bar and then back out again, knocking a pitcher of ice water overtop Kotetsu’s head and tipping him onto the floor in a crash of barstools. When Kotetsu recovers enough to open his eyes—

Of course. Iruka is gone.

Kotetsu brushes the water from his face, and plucks the twigs from his hair. Then, after a moment of internal debate, he finishes Iruka’s beer—miraculously untouched on the bar where he left it—since he’s been left with the tab. Kotetsu downs it in one swig, knowing he’ll probably be guilted into buying Izumo’s dinner too; that man was way too sensitive about household chores.

Kotetsu sighs and reaches for his wallet, pained by its growing thinness.

♦

“He has absolutely no sense of TPO!” Iruka shakes a lock of hair out of his face as he runs on the indoor winter track attached to the Academy gym.

Kiba jogs beside him like he does every Saturday morning. Well, barring mission or girlfriend interference. “TPO?” he asks, unfamiliar with the term.

“Time/place/occasion.”

“Aaaaaah,” Kiba nods, smirking. “So what, he tried to kiss you in public or something?”

“You would think, wouldn’t you.” Iruka huffs, teeth bared in an angry scowl.

Kiba tingles with anticipation—this sounds like it’s going to be good!

“Listen to this!” Iruka’s face goes all intense. “I wait _three hours_ at the restaurant where we were supposed to have dinner before giving up because he never shows. So I go down the street to have a much deserved beer when the asshole whirls in and kidnaps me! Right in front of people that I know!”

Kiba’s brows shoot up in surprise, and Iruka nods that it’s all true.

“That’s crazy, man!”

“The next thing I know we’re across town in a park, and it’s late at night so everything’s practically pitch black and I can’t tell where the hell we are, but he’s brought onigiri and cans of tea with him and says he wants to have some sort of a picnic!”

Kiba frowns. “At night? That’s kind of weird.”

“Of course it is! So I ask him if he at least brought a blanket to sit on or something, and he tells me ‘Oh I thought we could sit over there on a bench.’ And he points to this black hole, so I’m thinking at this point that I’m just going to get the hell out of there, and then he pulls out this ground flare and lights it—like it’s some romantic gesture or something.” Iruka rolls his eyes, “And that’s when I realize where we are because there are people on _every_ bench around us making out!”

Kiba nearly trips over his own sneakers. “He took you to the hook-up park?!”

“Yeah! You know the one?”

“Shit,” Kiba chuckles, “Everyone knows that park! That’s where I first got—”

He stops himself just in time, but he knows from Iruka’s interested sideways glance that he caught the slip. Kiba coughs and aims for misdirection.

“Anyways, I thought you said he didn’t kiss you in public? That park is the most public spot in the village!”

“That’s exactly my point—he didn’t do anything!” Iruka grinds his teeth, scowling. “Everyone is glaring at us because of the flare, and there’s no place to sit anyways because the benches and grass and trees are all taken by couples in various stages of…” Iruka flushes, waving a hand. “You know what I mean, so I tell him to put the damn flare out and since we can’t see enough to eat properly, he says we’ll have to try this again sometime, waves goodnight and then fucking _leaves me there! Alone_!”

Kiba gapes, shocked. “Did he take the onigiri?!”

“YES!” Iruka shouts, growling in angry frustration. “He doesn’t feed me, doesn’t kiss me, and then he freaking disappears! And so there I am, late Friday night, surrounded by couples having romantic exchanges and I have to walk past every one of them all by myself to get home! Ugh—so _humiliating_!”

“That’s a huge fuck-up,” Kiba agrees, embarrassed for the whole male species. “What the hell was he thinking? He skips out on the dinner spot, tries to have dinner in the after-dinner spot, and then doesn’t even steal dessert before turning tail?!”

“Don’t remind me!” Iruka growls, picking up the pace as they round the end of the oval track.

“If I were you I’d be mad as hell,” Kiba says. “Dude doesn’t deserve a second chance.”

“That’s right!” Iruka shouts, fists pumping as he runs. “When I see him tonight he is _so dead_!”

Surprised, Kiba lags for a moment, losing his rhythm. “You mean you’re going to see him again?”

“You betcha!” Iruka grins, face transforming into something truly evil. “I took my buddy’s shift tonight working in the mission room just so I can tell that Jounin what an elephant’s asshole he is in front of everyone! And that will teach him _exactly_ how to use TPO!”

Iruka begins to laugh, running even faster on the track in anticipation of his scheme’s success.

Awed (and a bit excited), Kiba struggles over the next hour to keep up with Iruka’s long strides in the best workout he’s ever gotten.

At least in the gym.

♦

“He is so goddamn _presumptuous_!” Iruka roars, then hides his face in his hands, blushing red to the tips of his ears. “I can never go back there now, Mozuku. Never. Why did he have to do that?!”

Mozuku slurps the dregs of the milk box from his bag lunch, identical to the lunch he smuggled into the Academy’s windowless supply closet for Iruka, and considers how best to respond.

“Well… Is it really so big of a deal?” He asks, cautious.

Iruka’s head snaps up. “Mozuku—I was fully prepared to lay into him for being such an asshole and ruining everything, but then before I can say a single word he struts through the door with his weekly report and announces to the room full of my colleagues and superiors that we are “Going Steady!” And then he threatens to kill anyone and everyone who dares to interfere with our courtship! Wouldn’t you say that counts as a huge deal? The _Hokage_ was there!”

Mozuku shrugs. “I’m sure the Hokage didn’t mind. She’s no prude.”

“That’s not the point!” Iruka barks, prickled in defense, and Mozuku gestures for him to calm down since they’re in such a small room.

Iruka takes a deep breath. “He had no right to say anything of the sort when we hadn’t even been on one date!”

Mozuku frowns. “I thought you—”

Iruka cuts in, eyes fixed in a deathglare. “I _refuse_ to call that debacle in the hook-up park a date!”

Mozuku opens his mouth to ask how they got to the hook-up park in the first place… then thinks better of it and clears his throat, changing tactics. “So then Saturday night when I saw the two of you at the Ramen stand…?”

“That wasn’t a date!” Iruka fidgets, now unable to meet his eyes. “It was a complete accident! He made this huge scene in the mission room and I just had to get him out of there, so in the name of damage control I grabbed his flak jacket and hustled him away, and when I finally felt calm enough to yell at him properly we were in front of Ichiraku’s so it just kind of happened!”

Mozuku watches him closely. “Did you have fun?”

Iruka worries a scratch in the worktable with his finger, and shrugs. “Um… It… It wasn’t quite as bad as getting a Brazilian wax job from a trainee… but it was close!”

“I see.” Mozuku smiles.

“But that’s not the point!” Iruka sighs, visibly distressed. “I refuse to be a laughingstock, Mozuku! Everyone at the faculty meeting whistled at me this morning! It’s unforgivable! That Jounin has something really really horrible coming to him I tell you!”

Mozuku cocks his head. “Like a second date?”

“Exactly!” Iruka pushes back from the table, chair skidding on the concrete and bumping into the row of filing cabinets. “If he thinks I’m putting up with any more of his ridiculous, arrogant bullshit for one minute longer, he’s a moron! The Ramen dinner was an accident, but we’ll just see how much he likes it when he has to pay for Lobster, Steak, Sushi Extravaganza, and Shark Fin soup on the side!”

Mozuku keeps quiet, appalled that Iruka would even joke about shark fin soup--this must be more serious than he first thought. He holds still, watching Iruka snatch the remains of his lunch, wad the contents into a ball and lob it into the wastebasket.

“And chocolate mousse-cake!” Iruka finishes, tossing his head with all the flourish of an exclamation point before stalking out of the supply room and slamming the door behind him.

Mozuku shakes his head, smiling, and wonders how long it will be before Iruka begs to pick up more of his shifts in the Mission room. Iruka may be clueless, but he can tell what’s coming a mile away…

Mozuku’s smile shifts right into a full smirk.

♦

“He has no concept of personal space!” Iruka clings to Sakura’s arm in desperation. “I’m in serious danger here—like a sitting duck! You can’t keep me any longer!”

Sakura calmly listens to his breathing with her stethoscope. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to survive here until morning, Iruka-sensei.”

“No! I’m fine now, I promise!” Iruka turns his watery brown eyes up at her. “You’ve got to believe me!”

“Shhh, calm down,” she soothes, gently pressing him flat on the hospital bed. “One more night for observation and you can go home. Okay?”

“Not good, not good,” Iruka presses his fist to his forehead, eyebrows drawn together. “You don’t understand what it’s like!”

“What I understand, Iruka-sensei, is that somebody here ate too much and nearly ruptured their stomach.” She cocks her head at him in challenge.

Iruka flushes, squirming in what she’d describe as rage and embarrassment competing in a pro-wrestling match.

“Let’s just ignore that for the moment,” he says, sitting up again in his agitation. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?! If you insist on keeping me in this hospital you’ll be an accessory!”

“To what?” Sakura folds her arms over his chart, sitting in the chair beside him.

“Criminal disregard for hospital visitation procedures! Disturbing a patient in their sleep! A-and non-consensual hugs!” Iruka points an accusing finger at her.

Sakura tries very hard to make her face smooth and professional. “You mean… from Kakashi-sensei?”

“YES! HIM!!!” Iruka’s veins pop, and Sakura pours him a glass of water from the pitcher at his bedside so he can take a moment to calm down.

“I understand you’ve been under some stress lately, Iruka-sensei.”

“You have no idea,” he says, holding the cup with both hands and sipping.

“Still,” Sakura watches him closely. “I find it hard to believe that Kakashi-sensei could drive you to harm yourself in such a way when he so clearly loves you.”

Iruka jerks, stupefied. He points a finger at his chest, face incredulous, and Sakura nods, chuckling.

“Yes _you_ , Iruka-sensei.” She pats him on the knee. “Why else would he come here and watch over you and help you recover?”

Iruka opens and closes his mouth, pointing at the door, then the window, then the drain in the floor before his voice catches up and he bellows: “He’s not helping me—he’s trying to KILL ME!”

Sakura jumps, startled by the outburst.

“He’s a crazy stalker!” Iruka insists, hands pressed to the sides of his face. “I never know when or how he’s going to show up—but he always does! A-and his fingers! They have some sort of weird paralysis technique because as soon as he touches me I can’t even move! So then while I’m lying here paralyzed he gets in bed with me and I can’t do a thing about it but lay there on his chest all night with his fingers combing through my hair!”

Sakura blinks, feeling a bit conflicted about receiving such a detailed image of Kakashi-sensei’s tender side, although she’s aware that she won’t hear the whole story if she interrupts Iruka now… And in her professional opinion it’s always worth it to have something to hold over Ino.

“And his voice! Oh God!” Iruka gazes across the hospital room to the white board that lists the on-call nurse’s names and his pupils unfocus. “It’s… it’s… it’s got some kind of genjutsu! I’m already paralyzed by his fingers but then he starts whispering children’s adventure stories or he hums these gentle strains of music and no matter how hard I fight it I’m no match for his attacks—it puts me to sleep and then when I wake up I’m being hugged! Repeatedly!” Iruka snaps out of the memory, cheeks pink. “It’s not fair!”

“Does he…” She pauses, searching for the most delicate way to ask. “Erm, does he only hug you?”

Iruka gapes in outrage. “Do you really think I’d let him do anything more than that?! I am not some weak Chuunin, I’ll have you know!”

“Of _course_ you’re not, Iruka-sensei,” Sakura waves a hand in the air, blushing.

“Besides,” Iruka looks her straight in the eye. “I told him that there would be absolutely no kissing until he shows me his face.”

Sakura blinks. “And… he _hasn’t_ yet?”

Iruka humphs. “How the hell should I know? As soon as I’m alone I put on this!”

From under his pillow he pulls out a wide black sleeping mask, brandishing it in triumph, and Sakura feels all the energy in her body leave in a whoosh.

“Oh _Sensei_ …” She moans, burying her face in her knees.

“Sakura? Sakura? Hey—are you okay?”

Sakura closes her eyes for a moment, understanding exactly what Tsunade meant when she said the two Sensei were made for each other, though the knowledge doesn’t eliminate the migraine coming on at a rapid pace, nor does it delete the image of both men canoodling right here in this hospital bed after hours with absurd, half-covered faces.

Even so, the looks she can imagine on Ino’s face as she leaks each detail one by one will be worth the inconvenience of such unwanted imagery and brain pains.

And if nothing else, Sakura thinks maybe she can coax a little TLC from Naruto when he comes by the hospital later with her dinner, inspired by the softer sentiments hidden underneath her Sensei’s antics.

♦

“He is worse than a child!” Iruka punches the button that increases the intensity of the workout on his stair-stepper machine, legs pumping in a furious rhythm.

Not to be outdone, Ino and Tenten hit the buttons on their machines, one on either side of him.

“Just because we’ve managed to go on a date that wasn’t a disaster, an accident, or that put me in the hospital, doesn’t mean that jerk has the right to sneak into my classroom and throw away all the ‘Get Well Soon’ presents from my students!”

Tenten gasps.

“He did _what?_ ” Ino exclaims.

“He threw them away!” Iruka rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Every card, every little potted pansy, all of it!”

“But why?!” Tenten asks.

“He’s jealous,” Iruka grinds his teeth.

“Of your students?” Ino cocks her head. “Surely a Jounin wouldn’t be—”

“—He told me so himself!” Iruka throws his hands in the air. “He said _I_ was the one being unfair to him by spending so much time with other people. So I picked up some extra shifts in the mission room—big deal. He doesn’t need to be such a baby about it!”

“Ugh, jealous boyfriends are the worst,” Tenten comments, pursing her pretty mouth.

Iruka turns to her, “I think he even threatened Kiba!”

Ino whips her head around. “Kiba? What did he say to Kiba!”

“I don’t know for sure…” Iruka worries his thumbnail with his teeth. “But I always go running with Kiba on Saturdays, and this morning Kiba called me and backed out. It happens sometimes, but _this_ time he sounded really strange!”

“So you think Kakashi-sensei said something to him?” Tenten blinks her huge eyes at him.

Iruka doesn’t get a chance to answer before Ino turns on him.

“ _Sensei_ ,” Ino hardens her gaze, trapping him with her icy blues. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“Ahaha, why would you think that?” Iruka swallows.

“I smell guilt,” Ino’s gaze narrows, pinning him to his step machine. “You’re a loyal person, Sensei, so why would someone like Kakashi-sensei not trust you to be around other people, hmmm?”

“Oh, um…” Iruka begins to flush. “Well… you see…”

“Out with it!” Ino’s voice cracks like a whip, and Iruka hides his face.

“He wants me to look underneath his mask!” he wails, purple with embarrassment.

Ino and Tenten gawk at him, both their mouths in perfect O’s of surprise.

“Why in heck wouldn’t you?!” They ask in unison, and Iruka hides his face further, draping his torso across the screen of his cardio machine in defeat.

“ _Everyone_ wants to see beneath the mask!” Tenten gestures frantically.

“Only a select few have ever seen what’s under it!” Ino flails.

“You could be the only one to know his real face!” Tenten jumps up and down.

“Are you a complete _moron_?!” Ino wails.

Iruka throws his head back, “You think I don’t want to see it? Of course I do! I’m always thinking of him! A-and wanting him! For Pete’s sake—am I not entitled to some _pride_?! I too am a man!”

“Oh Sensei!” The two girls whisper in complete sympathy.

Iruka clutches the sides of his stepper. “Fine—I admit I was rash and told him that we couldn’t … er, go to first base before he showed me.” He flushes. “But now I’m worried about what happens next because this is getting serious, here, and I just can’t help avoiding it! The right moment has already passed, so I don’t know how to bring it up! I just wish we could get it over with, dammit, but I can hardly face him anymore!”

“Sensei!” Ino and Tenten hop off their step machines and clasp Iruka’s hands in theirs. “You must go find him immediately, get him alone, and take off his mask—it’s the only way!”

“But—”

“If you deprive him for too long this jealousy will only get worse!” Tenten says, face earnest.

“He will become even more possessive and difficult if you don’t give him the reassurance he needs,” Ino squeezes his hand, brows lifted in concern.

“You _want_ to progress with him, right?” Tenten asks, so innocently that Iruka flushes even more.

“You can use physical force!” Ino encourages, nodding. “Push him into the wall and yank that mask right off!”

Iruka gapes. “But—”

“Everything will be better, Sensei! Trust us!” Tenten sparkles with excitement.

Iruka hems and haws for a moment longer, and then stops his machine and gets off of it, mouth set in determination. He grabs his towel and water bottle and runs off to the locker rooms, Ino and Tenten waving their hands in a silent cheer.

“God, did you get a look at his ass?” Tenten asks, after a moment.

“Couldn’t take my eyes off it,” Ino replies, eyes glazing over.

“Kinda makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” Tenten inclines her head.

Their eyes meet. As one, they climb back on their steppers and begin to program the settings.

“Thirty more minutes?” Ino straightens her leotard.

“That should do it,” Tenten agrees.

And a different sort of competition begins, with a different sort of envy at the helm.

♦

“He has no self control!” Iruka pauses beside the shuriken aisle and gets out his tube of lip balm, smearing on a healthy dose. “I swear to God, any excuse will do!”

Lee grabs a case of grade-A shuriken and drops it in his shopping cart, nodding. Ah, how well he remembers those first days and weeks of a new love… Lee’s cheeks blush and he doesn’t bother hiding it.

“It’s always like that in the beginning, Iruka-sensei.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take!” Iruka sighs, adding two new thigh holsters to his hand basket and a loop of kunai to match. “Okay, so maybe we weren’t the quickest to start doing it, but now every time I turn around he’s there begging for more! I’ve even caught him in the coat closet of my classroom, and then contorted underneath my desk in the same day—it’s ridiculous! Will that man never be satisfied?!”

Lee knows exactly what he means. “Does he insist on it first thing in the morning?”

“Yep.”

“And last thing at night?”

“Yep.”

“And midday before lunch?”

“Yep.”

“And does he somehow miraculously appear whenever you’re on your own to insist on confirming your undying love until your skin is chapped and raw and you’re not sure you have enough stamina to withstand or contain the burning fires of your mutual deep feelings?”

Iruka stops beside the packs of exploding tags, and touches fingers to his lips. “How did you know?!”

Lee pats Iruka on the arm, and smiles. “I too have a highly ranked Jounin for my lover, and I can tell you this—for now, you should use a brand name silicone lubricant.”

Iruka’s face drops. “…Pardon?”

Lee smiles, overlooking Iruka’s shyness for the sake of helping his comrade enjoy these early romantic interludes to the fullest. “It _will_ stain your sheets, so be careful, but it lasts the longest and it’s the best for when you do it the shower.”

“Um… Lee, I think you’ve misunderstood…”

Lee disregards Iruka’s panicked looks around them, warming to the topic. “When you lovebirds establish a more regular routine, you can switch to something water soluble instead because it’s easier to use when on the go, but lastly—”

“ _Lee_!” Iruka hisses.

“—I should warn you that when you go the water soluble direction, do not mix KY™ with Astroglide™ by accident because for some reason it produces a froth—”

“WE ARE NOT HAVING SEX!!!” Iruka screams at the top of his lungs. “WE ARE ONLY KISSING!!! _KISSING!!!_ ”

Lee blinks, hair blown all askew from the force of Iruka’s outburst. Iruka’s apoplectic face cranes in all directions daring anyone else in the Armory to make any kind of response to his exclamation.

No one peeps.

When Iruka charges to the check out stands to pay for his weapons, Lee understands that their shopping outing has come to a premature end, but still follows right behind.

“Ohhh!” Lee comments, watching Iruka count out bills and hand them to the cashier. “Now I understand your constant use of lip balm since we ran into each other today!”

Iruka glances at him in warning.

“Might I suggest—”

“— _Just shut up, Lee_!”

♦

“I can’t believe he could be so incompetent!” Iruka growls in Izumo’s direction.

It’s more a rhetorical statement than an apology, and Izumo sighs, wishing he could die a slow and painful death rather than watch Iruka brandish his fist at the other half-naked man crammed into the doorway, the one that is not sorry in the slightest for causing any trouble. The slice of apartment Izumo can see beyond them looks like a lingerie catalog fashion shoot gone awry—he’s never seen so many different kinds of g-strings flung in so many directions before. What a dreadful lack of discipline!

He’s too shocked to be scandalized, and too caffeine deprived to be shocked. This is not at all how he wanted to start his morning.

“You told me you filed it, you jerk!” Iruka rails on the man that can only be his boyfriend, and as Iruka twists Izumo catches sight of more hickeys along the soft area of skin just above the waistband of his sweats, though they’re not as noticeable as the ones on his chest and clavicle and throat and …

At least they’re both wearing pants.

Izumo coughs. “Well like I said…”

He tries to get a word in, but fails, as the more Iruka beats on the Jounin—he’d have to be at least Jounin rank with a scar like that on his eye—the more the Jounin tries to grab Iruka in a sloppy hug and plant wet kisses on the side of his neck.

“I can’t believe I trusted you with our vacation paperwork!” Iruka shoves the man’s face away with his open palm. “What were you thinking?! The Hokage is pissed! I could be fired! What do you have to say for yourself, huh?!”

“Sorry,” the man whispers in his ear, and Iruka freezes. “I must have lost the papers somewhere on the road of life in my excitement to spend a three day honeymoon with you, Iruka…”

Iruka trembles, his eyes fluttering closed, all the fight gone in an instant to be replaced with something far deadlier.

Izumo pinches the bridge of his nose. “Well since you’re not really AWOL and I see you’re okay and everything I’ll just be on my way,” he says, reaching past them and closing the door, just when Iruka tackles the other man to the ground and they begin to kiss.

“Unbelievable,” Izumo exhales, pulling his collar away from his neck and fanning his flushed cheeks as he jumps down the apartment complex steps two at a time.

It’s clear what they’re about to do, just as it’s clear what they’ve been doing for the last three days without permission; the scratches and bites on the Jounin’s pale skin speak more volumes than the renowned _Icha Icha_ series.

Izumo thinks the Hokage might be inclined to let things slide, betting on the fact that Iruka’s usually very responsible and that there were probably witnesses who can verify that at one time the correct paperwork did exist. But still.

It’s going to take a few more minutes before he can forget what he just saw. Last he’d heard, Iruka had been stood up by some inept bafoon.

“So _where_ did he dig up such a hot guy?” Izumo wonders, turning in the direction of the Hokage tower, and mentally composing his report.

He’s _never_ seen such a handsome face before. Damn, he’ll be thinking about it all day.

Izumo shakes the images free, and decides that he will have to come back a day or two later to return Iruka’s shuriken pouch; there’s no way he’ll let Kotetsu do it now.

Not after seeing such a display of bad housekeeping habits.

No telling what weird ideas that man would bring home with him.

♦

A group of Jounin materialize on the roofline of Konoha’s municipal building, across the street from the training field where a certain Chuunin schoolteacher is busy directing his class.

“That’s the one?” Genma points with the senbon balanced on his lips.

Hatake Kakashi squats on the roof tiles, heart thumping in response to the sight of Iruka. “Yup.”

“You sure about that?” Raidou cocks his head, challenging.

Kakashi nods, enjoying the moment.

“Isn’t that the guy who exploded at you when you interrogated him that time?” Aoba asks, adjusting his sunglasses.

Kakashi smirks under his mask.

“And you know, Senpai,” Tenzou folds his arms across his ANBU vest. “I’m pretty sure I heard that guy complaining about you in a bar.”

“I heard that too,” Genma exchanges a glance with Tenzou’s mask.

Ibiki’s black coat billows behind him in the wind. “I heard him tell an awful story about you in the gym, Kakashi. Major first-date snafu.” Ibiki tsks.

“Just a tactical error,” Kakashi replies mildly.

“You? Tactical error?” Inuzuka Hana flashes him a teasing grin, hands on her curvy hips. “Don’t tell me–you’re used to more dangerous prey?

“I’m not allowed to be nervous?” Kakashi glances in her direction, unruffled. “And he’s plenty dangerous, I’ll have you know.”

“Such an embarrassment.” Ebisu sniffs. “The things I heard that Chuunin say about you in the hospital…”

“I won’t repeat what I heard, my esteemed rival,” Gai beams from his spot on the roof. “Your sordid secrets are safe with me!”

“But not with me,” Anko leers from her perch on a nearby chimney. “Mr.—”

Kakashi cuts her off with a casual gesture. “You know that was a lie, Anko.”

“But it’s true that he chewed you out in front of the Hokage yesterday,” Shizune inclines her head, smirking. “Something about lost paperwork, I believe? And an ‘Incompetent-Asshole-Disgrace-of-a-Shinobi’?”

Kakashi waves it off. “It was worth it.”

“But isn’t at least one thing in all these stories clear?” Raidou looks at the group of Jounin around him.

“What’s that?” Kakashi eyes them, unperturbed.

The group answers in unison: “ _That guy clearly hates you!_ ”

Kakashi chuckles. “Well, it may seem like that.”

He nicks his thumb and makes the seals to summon his Pug, Pakkun. He hands a scrap of parchment to the dog, who takes one look at it and rolls his baggy eyes.

“Again?” the dog moans.

Kakashi nods, shooing him along. Pakkun takes the note in his teeth and disappears over the side of the building.

“Sometimes you have to look underneath the underneath,” Kakashi murmurs, watching as Pakkun crosses to the training grounds and makes contact with Iruka.

Iruka takes the note and unfolds it, then searches the nearby rooflines until he finds the right one.

Iruka makes an unmistakable gesture, then cups his hand around his mouth and yells loud enough for all to hear: “GO STRAIGHT TO _HELL_ AND DON’T COME BACK!!!”

Kakashi blows Iruka a kiss, and waves.

“Ahhhhh,” he sighs, happier than he’s ever been before. “See that? He _loves_ me!”

—

Ω

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure why my kkir fics always turn out to be ridiculous. ^^;; Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed.
> 
> find me on twitter! @erisabesu3 ♥


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